


The Meeting

by SilencetheGolden



Category: Final Fantasy VII
Genre: M/M, Minor Bloodplay/Painplay, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-23
Updated: 2014-12-23
Packaged: 2018-03-03 03:24:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2836253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilencetheGolden/pseuds/SilencetheGolden
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Vincent really doesn't want to go to the AVALANCHE member meeting, can he get out of it?</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Meeting

“Vince? We gotta go. Cloud wants us at the meeting in an hour.” Cid heard no reply. “Vincent?” the pilot called again.

“In the bedroom.” Vincent’s gravelly voice replied.

Cid entered the bedroom. Vincent was laying on the bed and propped up against the headboard, reading. Cid rolled his eyes.

“Yer not getting out of this, so hurry up and get yer ass moving. We ain’t got all day.”

Vincent looked up and raised an eyebrow. “I have no desire to go.”

“Well ya have to, it’s important and he’s our leader.”

“I didn’t vote for him.”

“Ya don’t vote for Leader you just get the position. Now get the fuck up.” 

Cid walked over to Vincent’s side of the bed, intending to pull the black haired man up. However, Vincent had other plans. Before Cid could react, Vincent grabbed the pilot’s arm and yanked him onto the bed. Cid sprawled, trying to avoid the gunman’s legs. When he recovered, he flipped over and sat up, annoyed.

“Damn it Vince, warn a man before you decide to pull somethin’ like this.”

Vincent just went forward, leaning into Cid’s space. Cid automatically leaned away, trying to maintain some distance. While the blonde was distracted with keeping his balance, he didn’t notice when the gunman put his arms on either side of him. Grasping his ass, Vincent pulled a very surprised Cid up to straddle his thighs.

“Hey! What –“, was all the pilot managed to get out before Vincent pressed his lips to Cid’s. The ex-turk ran his tongue along the blond’s bottom lip. When Cid opened his mouth, to speak or to gasp, Vincent pressed his advantage, grasping the back of his head with his good hand.

Pulling off, Vincent started to kiss down Cid’s jawline, nibbling as he went. Cid relaxed, meeting forgotten, and started to let his hands roam up and down Vincent’s body. That is, until Vincent reached the junction of the pilots neck and shoulder, and bit down. Sharp teeth broke the skin, leaving a perfect, oval bite mark. Vincent ran his tongue along it, paying special attention to the deepest punctures.

“You son of a bitch, stop that! That fuckin’ hurts!” Cid swore as Vincent left off savaging his neck to dig his claw and fingernails into his back. Vincent smiled, baring his fangs, which still had a bit of the pilot’s blood on them. He licked them clean deliberately, tasting the iron and salt tang.

“Why Chief, you know that’s not the safe word.” He said, continuing to slowly score marks into his lover’s back. Those would look so lovely tomorrow… Maybe they’d scar, a permanent reminder of who could do this to Cid. Cid, for his part glared, and then started cursing under his breath, punctuated with a gasp or a moan whenever Vince dug in particularly deep. He arched his back, instinctually trying to lessen the damage, only to be thwarted by being pressed to the gunman’s chest. There was no denying that he liked this. Even if Vincent couldn’t smell his arousal, the pheromones painting a clear picture, the rock hard erection he was sporting was currently pressed into Vincent’s stomach. The pilot was stuck. He really was lovely like this, twitching and needy (though he’d never admit it, not Cid Highwind), and in pain.

Vincent reached down with his left hand- the one with the gauntlet- and teasing ran his fingers over Cid’s cock through his pants. Cid seemed to have given up fighting for control, no longer swearing or shifting away from Vincent’s ministrations. Well that wouldn’t do. In any other time or mood, Vincent would pay good gil for Cid like this, pliant and easily handled. However, today Vince wanted livelier prey.

“How’s it feel, Highwind? To know that you’re the captain of a ship, only to be shown who’s really in command?” Vincent started laughing as Cid’s eyes snapped open, temper flaring.

“I’ll fucking show you who’s in fucking charge you sadistic asshole!” With that Cid tried to twist out of Vincent’s grasp, resulting in more cuts and the realization that the gunman’s grip and Cid’s balance were the only things keeping Cid from falling back. Cid hit the bed with a gasp of pain, as his own weight pressed the fresh wounds into the mattress. Before he could recover, Vincent was on top of him, pinning Cid underneath him with his body….

 

“Vince. Vincent. VALENTINE!” The shout snapped Vincent out of his reverie. He jolted, looking around for the source of the noise. Cid was standing a few feet away from him, arms folded.  
“Finally decided to join us in the land of the awake and functional?” The pilot asked, half exasperation, half amusement.

“….” Shit. Did he miss something? Vincent looked around, noting that the whole of AVALANCHE was staring at him with varying degrees of concern and annoyance. Oh right. The strategy meeting.

**Author's Note:**

> There may be a part two to this if it generates enough interest...


End file.
